


Don't Touch the Art

by colazitron



Series: 2016 December Holiday Fic Countdown [19]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron
Summary: Isak takes Even on a date to The National Gallery.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosepetalfall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetalfall/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the characters depicted herein, or their createors. I made this all up in my head and am sharing it purely for entertainment reasons.
> 
> For anon who gave me the art date prompt. I love that thought.

Kissing Even was one of Isak's favourite things to do. He wasn't naturally a lethargic person or anything, but he could spend literal hours lying in bed with Even, chatting and kissing, and kissing and chatting and never grow bored. It got to the point where their lips were so swollen they literally _had_ to turn it down a notch.

Instead there was the soft brush of Even's nose against his, and against his cheek, his jawline. There were Even's fingers tracing the lines of his face, and carding through his hair, and there was Even's hair between his own fingers. There were the solid lines of Even's collarbones underneath his t-shirt, and the moles on his neck. There was the teasing prod of his toe against Isak's ankle, and the pressure of his knee against Isak's leg where they were lying so closely together. There was the glittering love in his eyes. Just the reality of Even's closeness made Isak feel drugged, his eyelids heavy and his mind perpetually singing with the idea of kissing him again, the dull ache in his lips be damned.

“I want to take you on a date,” Isak whispered into the space between them, flicking his eyes up to stare at Even's.

“A date?” Even asked, delight spelled out over every one of his handsome features. “Are you going to come pick me up and bring me a dozen roses?”

“If you want,” Isak laughed.

Even pressed his grin against Isak's lips and then sat up, bouncing a bit with the force of his movement.

“No, I want to go now!” he said, beaming down at Isak. “Or--?”

“Okay. We'll go now,” Isak said, and let himself be rushed out of the flat, barely yelling out to Eskild that they were going out.

It was only down on the street that Even stopped abruptly, as if remembering that he had no idea what Isak had in mind.

“Do you want me to tell you?” Isak asked, tugging Even along by their linked hands.

Even pondered it for a moment and then leaned over to kiss Isak's cheek.

“No,” he decided. “Surprise me.”

“Alright,” Isak smiled, and continued to lead them to their destination.

Once they'd changed bus lines, Even's eyes went wide like he'd worked out their most likely target, but he didn't say anything, so Isak kept just as mum. It lasted until they got off the bus at Frederiks gate, where Even squeezed Isak's hand and grinned at him.

“You're taking me to the National Gallery?” he asked, quite obviously surprised.

“Yeah, I thought… I don't know. I thought it'd be nice. I don't, like, know much about art or. I'm not good at it, but I like reading the little plaques about the paintings and--”

Even cut him off with a kiss, hands on Isak's cheeks and lips pressed firmly to his.

“I didn't know you liked art,” Even said when he pulled back, only just enough so he could speak.

Isak shrugged and brought a hand up to hold on to Even's wrist, thumb rubbing over the back of his hand absent-mindedly.

“I… like knowing about it,” he said.

“You're secretly a complete nerd, aren't you,” Even said, the sparkle in his eyes dancing delightedly. It was impossible for Isak not to smile back at him when he looked like that.

“I don't know. Maybe,” he said, and then let Even pull him along excitedly.

Isak insisted on paying, and got rewarded with another kiss. The elderly lady at the ticket counter honest-to-god put her hand over her heart and gave them gooey eyes at the display.

“It's our first official date,” Even told her.

“Well, you two boys have a great time,” she said, patting Isak's hand affectionately as he took the tickets from her.

Even, Isak learned, liked to stand the precise distance away from a painting it took for it to take up his entire field of vision, so that there was nothing that could distact him. He tilted his head and wrinkled his brows at some paintings, and stared in awe at others. He moved up close to inspect the details, and twice now Isak had grabbed his hand to keep him from foolishly tapping on the glass or something.

Isak read the plaques before he looked at the paintings. The ones at the entry to every new section, that gave an overview of the era, and the ones that held only the painter's name, title, and year of creation. The paintings themselves seemed mostly either ugly or beautiful to him. Technically well done, maybe, though he wasn't a good judge of it.

It wasn't long before he was watching Even watch the paintings more than he looked at the paintings themselves. Even was art too, he thought. He was certainly beautiful, and looking at him provoked a stronger emotional response from Isak than any of the paintings did. It swelled slowly in his chest, spreading outwards into everyone of his limbs until he felt like he would burst with it; all this messy adoration. Sometimes Even caught him at it and lifted his eyebrows in question, but Isak would only lean over to kiss him briefly, chastely, and then turn away to pretend to look at whatever painting they were stood in front of, if only to get Even to concentrate on it again as well so he could go back to looking at Even.

“I know you're staring at me and not the art,” Even murmured at one point, hand in Isak's and eyes fixed right ahead at the Munch painting they were looking at. Well, that Even was looking at.

“Yes, I am,” Isak said, with a grin.

“No, you're not,” Even protested, turning to look at Isak and flicking up his eyebrows as if to say 'see, I caught you'.

Isak leaned in for a kiss, pulling away only when his grin threatened to break the kiss anyway.

“Yes, I am,” he repeated, watching realisation bloom on Even's face until he ducked his head into Isak's shoulder and laughed quietly.

“You're so sweet,” he said once he stood up straight again.

Isak shrugged; half pleased, half embarrassed.

“When we get home,” Even murmured, brushing his nose against Isak's, “I'm going to draw you.”

“Like a French girl?” Isak teased, the base of his neck prickling as he considered the idea. “Will you give me a ridiculous diamond necklace as well?”

“I think technically someone else has to give you that,” Even said, even as his pupils grew wide and he swallowed harshly.

Then he tugged at Isak's hand, taking a step back.

“Come on, we're done for today.”

Isak grinned at the floor until he got get his expression under control, and fell into step next to Even. He was going to consider this date a rousing success.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> You can still come leave me prompts on [my tumblr](http://fille-lioncelle.tumblr.com/ask) if you want. :)


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